


Hello, My Old Heart.

by melancholist



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, One Shot, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholist/pseuds/melancholist
Summary: While it would be hyperbolic to insist that everyone in Miyagi knows Oikawa Tooru, it would not be a stretch to assert that everyone who knows him, to some degree, believes that everyone in Miyagi should know Oikawa Tooru.One person is alone in thinking that the whole world should know Oikawa Tooru.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Hello, My Old Heart.

A train rumbles on from Miyagi to the Sendai Airport.

This occurrence, by all means, is a relatively routine one. There is nothing that separates this event from other quotidian matters, like the act of folding clothing, or making phone calls to friends and other relevant acquaintances. 

And yet, this seemingly innocuous happening is one that surmounts to a great struggle for one select individual, or perhaps two, if the two can really even be distinguished from one another.

* * *

While it would be hyperbolic to insist that _everyone in Miyagi knows Oikawa Tooru_ , it would not be a stretch to assert that everyone who knows him, to some degree, believes that _everyone in Miyagi should know Oikawa Tooru._

One person is alone in thinking that _the whole world should know Oikawa Tooru_.

There’s a magnetic quality to Oikawa, and though some of it can be attributed to his physique, those who knew him better believed it was some intangible trait that lurked in his being. 

Once his eyes train themselves upon a goal or particular target, his unrelenting conviction rears its head like an apex predator. His indomitable spirit is that which draws awe from his spectators. He is feared as much as he is celebrated. 

One person is alone in celebrating him wholeheartedly. 

This person is Iwaizumi Hajime. Right now, he is home, in Miyagi. Oikawa and Iwaizumi have grown parallel to one another. One result of this is that the pair is familiar with the native fauna and flora. 

Iwaizumi is better at catching bugs. Oikawa falls short nearly every time.

Iwaizumi’s arms are more toned, and have always had a tendency to catch the rays of the sun better than Oikawa’s. Oikawa’s arms freckle under persistent sunlight. 

Iwaizumi is humbly satisfied with being capable and truly reliable. Oikawa only knows how to go above and beyond. 

For most of their lives, they could be defined in relation to each other. Almost as though they were two halves of one whole, two very inextricable and necessary pieces of a puzzle.

These two halves part today, because of a train rumbling on to Sendai Airport.

* * *

There is a quiet humdrum permeating the dry air, and it does not bother Oikawa one bit. 

Again, he is unbothered when his plane takes off. He has never been one to fold under nerves. But there goes a fleeting thought in his mind that tells him, _“Iwaizumi would have been shitting his pants right now, the nerd”_.

Oikawa knows Iwaizumi has a fear of heights, and a fear of flying, and that he likes his soba cold, and that he hogs the futon when he gets the chance, that he needs more deodorant than he actually uses, that he resembles a hedgehog, that he secretly likes dad jokes, that he's a softie on the inside, that when he smiles unreservedly the whole damn world coalesces into one big grin, and that…

_“...I’m on my way to Brazil, and there is no going back.”_

Oikawa’s mind is tranquil once more. He accepts the free peanuts from a lovely flight attendant with a faultless smile. He falls into small talk with the charming elderly lady next to him. It’s been such a peaceful journey. There is hardly any turbulence. 

The flight is an overnight flight, and it is particularly chilly when dusk finally falls. However, he has always had a great tolerance from the cold, accustomed to being shoved outside futons. He is also accustomed to stealing jackets if the going gets too tough. 

But today, he alleviates his suffering by watching _Interstellar_. Shivering, he watches it and thinks, _“Space really is awesome, after all”_. Like an astronaut, he wants to push frontiers as far as they can go.

When his eyes close, his memory flickers with images of two scrappy boys in a field, surrounded by fireflies dancing above the tall grass. They are but two specks underneath a vast canopy of stars, but they are so at ease, so content to be still in the moment. The reminiscence, evoked during a dream, is more vivid than what his conscious mind could possibly conjure on command. 

Meanwhile, the aeroplane hurtles through the frigid air, and nothing will stop it from reaching its destination. Certainly not a memory that drifts away meekly once slumber subsides.

* * *

A few days ago, two quivering halves stood in a room. The ascent up Oikawa’s staircases was made using muscle memory. Iwaizumi had effortlessly smiled at Oikawa’s relatives and greeted them comfortably. 

They had on several occasions held each other tight in this same place. Laced each other’s fingertips together and made themselves intertwined in every which way possible. Where little idiosyncrasies revealed themselves unabashedly and etched themselves into two present minds.

The severance was easier than Oikawa envisioned.

“Hey, I’m heading off.”

“Oh.”

Iwaizumi knew exactly what Oikawa was referring to. After all, he had confided in him his plans to go to Brazil over and over again.

He had hashed out his vision to Iwaizumi step by step and Iwaizumi bore witness to how Oikawa saw his dream unfolding.

He knew this was coming. 

And never more did Iwaizumi love Oikawa than in that moment, because he cried himself raw that night, right there and then. 

Tentative pale hands went up to comfort Iwaizumi, but Oikawa himself still remained placid and unmoving. 

"Listen, I know." A feeble attempt.

"No, idiot, you don't." Came the reply, amidst dry heaves.

"... Yeah. For once... I don't."

Oikawa is one to shift with the tides when it is convenient for him, but he can be more obstinate than Iwaizumi, who is usually the one set in stone, when he feels that the need arises. He knows he must stand firm now, or avail himself to an avalanche of pungent remorse. 

Crickets let out shrill sounds outside while Oikawa mourned silently. He felt all warmth leave from his chest. 

One other person was similarly inconsolable, but nothing could be done about it now.

**Author's Note:**

> I set out to write an unredeemable form of tribute, something which has no business existing but now does. I hope that this accomplishes that aim, to some extent. Thank you for stumbling across this.
> 
> This fic takes inspiration from the song [Hello My Old Heart ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AObC5VKMdEc) by The Oh Hellos. 
> 
> You can try to listen to it from Iwaizumi’s perspective for extra hurt! And leave feedback here if you'd like.


End file.
